


Pizza Time

by Quirlequast



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, WTFock/Skam (Belgium) AU, i have no idea if this is going somewhere, i live on au's so, it kind of pured out of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 20:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quirlequast/pseuds/Quirlequast
Summary: Robbe is not sure if his Pizza delivery guy is flirting with him. But he sure is hot. (And maybe Robbe flirts back)
Relationships: Robbe Ijzermans/ Sander Driesen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 156





	Pizza Time

Robbe wanted to be annoyed, when the doorbell finally rang. His stomach had already rumbled whilst they were choosing the toppings...which was over an hour ago. 30min Delivery his ass! Now he felt full on ravenous...and quite irritable. Listening to Moyo’s bullshit without the salvation of grease and cheese would do that to everyone. Honestly, he felt rather relieved to have an excuse to leave his room for a minute. He couldn’t get to the door fast enough, his socked feet skidding over the wooden floor, driven by a mix of hunger and flight-instinct. 

Oh, how he loved this flat. His mum had never let them order take-out to their house. This was what being a uni-student must feel like: Freedom to make as many shitty food-decision as you want, having your friends over whenever you want and drinking whenever you want. Well...the drinking part might have to wait until the weekend, though.   
Robbe ripped the door open, about to give out a light scolding on how long this damn pizza had taken. However, the words hitched in his throat upon laying eyes on the delivery boy. Robbe was careful to call men anything but handsome when his friends were around but...that wouldn’t do his counterpart any justice. If Robbe were free to say whatever without being heard, he would’ve called him hot. Very hot. 

Platinum blonde hair, tousled probably from cycling here, framed alert, green eyes. He was taller than Robbe, long legs clad in jeans and combat boots. The Deliveroo-shirt was halfway covered by an expensive looking black leather-jacket and Robbe could detect a silver chain disappearing under his shirt collar. He made his uniform look like a fashion choice, instead of an uniform and Robbe was so here for it.  
Hot delivery boy greeted him with raised eyebrows and an impatient look on his empty wrist –an imaginary clock? “Finally,” he said, his voice deep and warm. 

Huh? 

“You know, when I ordered, I didn’t expect to be waiting this long,” the guy continued. “Is it too much to ask for a decently-timed delivery? What do you guys get paid for?” He threw Robbe an inquisitive glance, as if he’d have an answer to that. “Let me guess, the pizza’s cold and the toppings are mixed up?”   
“Uhh,” made Robbe intelligently. Perplexed beyond words...but also kind of amused. Or maybe just turned on.   
The blonde huffed indignantly. “Yeah, I thought so. Sorry,” he dug out his phone with his free hand –the other balancing two pizza cartons, “this will be a zero-star rating on Deliveroo.” 

Robbe blinked, finally being confused enough to overcome his stupefied silence. “What?!”   
For a moment they just stared at each other, Robbe slightly wary and delivery boy seemingly nonchalant...until he snorted and started laughing. “My God, your face!”   
When Robbe didn’t answer, delivery boy –still grinning- handed over the pizzas (which were still hot, thankfully). “We’re really sorry, we’re short on staff tonight and I guess your order kinda slipped our notice for a while.”   
Robbe nodded , still a bit suspicious about how unapologetic the guy sounded. 

“Don’t worry,” the boy said and winked at him. “We won’t charge you for our mistakes. In fact, on the contrary...” With a flourish he produced a stack of coupons from his pocket. “I’m bearing gifts.” 

This time, Robbe couldn’t help cracking a small smile. Delivery boy beamed back. “So, is there anything else I can do for you? Are we redeemed in the eyes of our humble customer?” 

Was he flirting with him? Robbe wasn’t sure how to handle this conversation, or this situation in general. He had never flirted with a hot guy before. To be honest, he wasn’t a big flirt in general, always a tad too awkward to enjoy it. Could this even be interpreted as flirting? 

“Uh,” he started again and decided fuck it, he wouldn’t see delivery boy again anyways. “I don’t know...is there anything more you can do for me? Think of your star-rating.” He sent the blonde a shaky smile, which was returned by a wider one.

“I could treat you to a proper meal someday? Don't tell anyone but our pizza isn't as nutritious as we have you believe.” Delivery boy put his finger to his lips.

Robbe laughed, relieved that he read the signs right. Encouraged by this he decided to tease a tiny bit more before deciding on anything. “Oh yeah? And what would you deem a proper meal?” 

Delivery guy shrugged. „I would come up with something,“ he said confidently. „I'm a good cook.“

Something inside Robbe melted at this statement. Of course he could cook. As if he wasn't perfect enough already. He probably spent his days having meaningful conversations in cozy bars and making complicated meals in an apartment filled with plants. And all of it with the same self-assurance and carefreeness as he presented right now in Robbe's hallway.

Robbe tilted his head, feeling daring. „Well, I'll have to see that for myself before I believe it.“

He hadn't thought the blonde's smile could stretch even wider, but somehow it did. „Oh you will, I make the best croques in the world.“

Before Robbe could respond to that, Jens' voice rang through the flat behind him. „Robbe, are you coming back, man? You've been ages!“

Oh yeah, Robbe had almost forgotten about this other world in his room: the world of girl-talk and oh-so-very-heterosexual-friends. He sighed, already dreading to go back and face yet another evaluation of some girl's arse. But alas... 

„Coming,“ he yelled back before turning to hot delivery guy. „Thanks for the pizza, I guess. And the coupons.“

The blonde boy frowned at this sudden change of tone. „Sure,“ he said uncertainly. 

Robbe sighed, sending him a resigned last smile and started retreating backwards into the corridor with the pizzas, when the guy exclaimed „Wait!“

He fumbled in his pockets and took out a black sharpie, with which he hastily scribbled something on the upper pizza carton. „Text me sometime,“ he said when he was done, winking at Robbe and disappeared down the corridor before Robbe could say anything.

Did that really just happen? Clumsily, Robbe closed the door and leaned against it for moment, eyes closed. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that this magnificient boy had casually asked him out to dinner and given him his number, all in the span of maybe ten minutes. How does one react to that? He was overwhelmed with glee...and a little pride.

A small smile stole itself on his lips, when he examined what hot delivery boy had written on the box. 'Oh you pretty thing!' Next to it a number and a name. Sander.  
Somehow Robbe couldn't get this smile off of his face for the rest of the evening.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry, English isn't my native language and I have not proofread this in any way.  
They have Deliveroo in Belgium, right?


End file.
